


you know he does not love you

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Minor Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, and Stiles just needs his best friend to stay, and scott is a bit cowardly, but he's brave in a different way, but its unrequited sciles, it was going to be requited, okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:24:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3582735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's started two weeks ago.</p><p>Now, Scott knows he is in love with Stiles.</p><p>He also knows that Stiles is not in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you know he does not love you

**Author's Note:**

> this is so unrequited and so messily written and sob, it's been two hours and I've barely moved, and I don't even want to proof read.  
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> based off: http://kindofahotmess.tumblr.com/post/108614628073/his-fingers-theyre-wrapping-around-your-wrist

Scott lays in bed, arm twisting underneath his neck. He doesn’t even know how it starts, how he exactly got from point A to point B. But _God_ , he wished he did. He wished he could make sense of everything, but there’s just so damn much. There’s too much. Which is why he needs to start at the beginning, which is nearly impossible to decide exactly what moment was the beginning.

For all Scott knows, it could’ve been the first day they ever met each other. It could’ve been their first day of high school; it could have been the day Scott followed him into the woods. _(He doesn’t have to say who. It’s always been him)_ It could have been that one time where they watched Princess Bride together or when they went to the town over to steal a street sign. Maybe it was when they first got drunk together or maybe- maybe it was when they made a “BFFS 4EVER,” CD mix for the Jeep.

But he doesn’t think so. He thinks it’s smaller than that. He thinks it’s what got him into this mess of emotions.

They were just walking in the grocery store, Stiles babbling about the differences between yogurts and how pricing factored into that. Not that Scott really cared, but still he nodded at his cues and told Stiles to stop worrying so much. He’d done this a hundred times before. But then there was Derek Hale and Stiles stopped babbling, and he was looking at the man like he was the seventh wonder of the world. Scott felt himself uncomfortable, unsure what to do with the radio silence. Unsure what to do with the scents he was getting from his best friend. Over all, pretty unsure.

And Derek knew.

Scott could tell that Derek just knew, and by the way the boyish grin wiped over his features, Derek felt the same way. In reaction to this, Scott’s heart sunk to his stomach and fist clenched and he felt his eyes looking anywhere but at the boys. Which, if one couldn’t tell, shouldn’t have even bothered Scott because Derek isn’t a bad guy and Stiles would be good with him. They’d be happy together.

But Scott wished for his sense of obliviousness to kick in at that moment. He wished that he could pretend not to see the way Stiles was looking at Derek _(like he was the sun, the moon, the stars. Like he was everything that Stiles needed. Like he was a miracle, and as if Stiles wanted to drown and Derek was the sea)._ Or maybe what made it worse was the way Derek Freaking Hale was sneaking glances at Stiles _(secretive and sweet. Sickeningly so.)_

Stiles’ mouth seemed to start working again after what seemed like hours. No longer on food but simply whatever came to his mind, and Scott tried to smile. He did. He nodded and snuck in comments, but they both knew something had changed. The air, and it was like the conversation was crumbling.

Derek walked from the dairy section, and Stiles was still focused on Scott. In that way, Scott felt a little smug, but what for? Derek had Stiles in the way Scott didn’t.

“Scott, you okay, man? You’ve been out of it for a while.” Stiles finally asks, nudging Scott’s shoulder, concern falling into his voice. Eyebrows burrowing together, head leaning down a bit, so that are eye level.

“Yeah, dude. Sorry, guess I was just thinking.”

“Well, don’t hurt yourself, okay?” Scott huffs out a pathetic attempt of laugh and just stands next to him, allowing Stiles to have the conversation with himself, but he can’t stop thinking of how terrible of a friend he is for not even being happy.

They leave fifteen minutes later. Stiles doesn’t stay over.

Three day later, Scott got his letter. He had full ride to U.S. Coast Guard Academy. He was to leave in two weeks. Scott, of course was ecstatic. His grades weren’t in par with the school’s usual, but his lacrosse skills had gotten him in.

Stiles doesn’t pick up the phone when Scott calls, but that’s alright, Scott tried to convince himself. Although his mouth tasted like metal, he got on his bike and drove to see his mom. She was excited for him and kissed his cheek. Muttering about how proud she was for her boy, and that when her shift was done they’d go out to celebrate. “Invite Stiles.” She said, grin plastered on her face. Scott didn’t have the heart to tell her that he already tried.

Two days later, he finally saw Stiles. He doesn’t tell him though, he doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t. The excitement of telling Stiles wasn’t there anymore, instead it was just the feeling of lead in his stomach.

At lunch, he spilled the beans to the pack. Lydia let out a low whistle, Isaac clapped his back, Erica swatted his ass, and Boyd gave a slight nod in approval. They spent the rest of lunch talking about it. How they would make it work, the pack. They settled on lots of Skype calls and visits every month.

Scott pretends not to notice how Stiles avoids him for five more days.

“Stiles, what’s up man?” He finally asked when the radio silence became too much. They’re sitting next to each other, and Scott is speaking in hushed tones.

“You never told me.” And it hits Scott that they haven’t even talked, much more they haven’t talked about him leaving. And Scott would apologize, but he can’t. Because if Stiles had wanted to talk about it, he could’ve said something.

“You’re all my family. Isn’t it fair that I said it when we were all together?” Scott asked after a second.

Stiles face is overtaken with a sort of hurt expression, not the fake one he does when he’s sarcastic. The one that makes Scott want to wrap him up in a blanket. Stile gaped like a fish and shoved his hands down, tired of words that didn’t work.

“But we’re more than them.”

They don’t talk for two day after that, and Scott knows that nobody knows that he’s leaving in five days. Nor does he tell them. They’ve been out of school for two days. He’ll let them enjoy their summers, and while a small part screams at him to tell Stiles, he can’t. Scott does climb into Stiles window that night though.

“I tried to call you when I got the letter.” Scott said with a very small voice. This past week felt like centuries, and being in Stiles room was comfort.   
Stiles fell out of his chair though, not really sure what had just happen.

“We gotta put a bell on you.”

The night progressed and Scott got home with a dopey smile on his face, and his mom asked him why, but he just replied that he was excited.

Things are a bit after that, of course, that is until Scott realized he was madly in love with his best friend.

His beautiful, sarcastic best friend.

Which is now. He is realizing he is in love with Stiles Stillinski, and he feels sick because he leaves at noon. And right now it’s 2:30 in the morning, and he can’t do this. He really can’t. It’s too much because he is so damn hopelessly in love with Stiles.

And Stiles is not so hopelessly in love with him.

And that’s a lot to think about, and that’s a lot to accept. And he can’t. So instead, he sleeps until ten.

He wishes he could have slept until they left. No one knows they’re leaving. Not even the sheriff.

He creeps into Stiles window one last time at 11:45. Scott is filled with anxiety and nerves and he is aware of the feeling in his gut. Scott doesn’t feel cliches, he just feels stronger. Invincible. Yeah, there’s nerves, but there’s the mentality that he could get through anything.

“Stiles.”

“Hey man, why so gloomy?” Stiles swerves his chair so that they’re looking at each other. Stiles is getting tanner, skin is stretching over his bones, but there’s muscle these days.

Scott shrugs, “Guess ‘m just tired, man.” Stiles rolls his eyes in response. “I, uh, wanted to tell you that I just really love you. You know that, right? That I’d do anything for you.” Scott adds clumsily, he’s said it a thousand times before, but this time it’s different. There’s a deep layer of affection and nerves.

“Scott, what’d you do?” And Stiles is standing up, hands cupping Scott’s uneven jaw and looking in brown orbs, pupils blown out in fear, frantic words.  

Scott allows himself to savor the touch, noticing the long slim fingers and how they cool are against his skin. It’s a nice feeling, he concludes before stepping back.

Twelve minutes left.

“I’ve got something to say, but I just need to make sure that you know you’re my best friend. And I don’t regret going into the woods with you that night. That you have been one of the best things to happen to me.”

“You’re scaring me, Scott.” Stiles hands are shaking, the last time Scott spoke like this, Allison had just been buried and Scott was a mess. Before that, Scott tried to kill himself.

“Chill out, man. It’ll take a few minutes.”

“Chill out? Like, hell I can. Just, just what’s up?”

Scott steadies Stiles onto the bed, making him sit.

“You’ve been there for me through everything. You helped me understand myself, when it comes from religion to my asexuality. There are times when I’m pretty sure you know me better than I do,” A shaky breath, “and maybe that’s why. Or maybe it’s because we’re going to be separated for college, but I love you. And not lie, ‘I love you, dude.’ in way. Like, I love you.”

Stiles stands up and he’s not smiling and he’s not frowning, and it’s a blank slate, and he messed up. Scott is pretty sure he’s messed up. So before Stiles can say something, Scott continues.

“Dude, I know you’re not into me. That’s cool. I have eyes, and everyone can tell you're set on Derek, but I just thought I should tell you so that we avoid relationship jokes for a while.”

“Why are you telling me this now, Scott? For Christ’s sake. What the hell?” Stiles knows it’s not anger burrowing its way into Stiles voice but frustration. Scott doesn’t mean to say what he says next.

“I’m leaving in like eight minutes.”

“To where?”

“Connecticut.” Because he can’t lie now. Stiles is now gripping onto his arm; he didn’t expect that answer. He expected vacation or over to a friend’s house or an important pack meeting. His hand is so clumsy, so much more desperate than Scott can ever recall.

It’s funny. Scott hasn’t felt Stiles’ hands in a long time. These past few minuets, they feel as if they are making up for the whole month.

“Please man, don’t leave,” they’re twisting the short sleeves of his shirt. They’re needy fingers, and Scott wants to pretend that they need him. But he knows, that this is not for him in the way he wants it to be. Scott’s throat is tight, constricted. He isn’t feeling so invincible anymore. He’s feeling like he just got shot down. And Scott doesn’t know what do day.

He hasn’t said no to Stiles before, but he says it now.

“You can’t be serious. Please. I’m begging you. Wait til the morning. Stay with me.” Stiles face is falling apart, and his voice is so much more desperate than before. Scott shakes his head.

“Just look me in the eye, then. Tell me this isn’t because me.”

For a moment. it’s like he’s the one in love with his best friend.

“It’s not because of you, Stiles. And I mean, I’ll call. But I’ve gotta go. See you later, man, alright?”

Scott doesn’t wait to jump out of the window. He doesn’t even want to hear what comes next. He’s just running home; he knows his mom would scold him if she knew, so he doesn’t plan on telling her. He’s aware of his phone ringing, and he’s aware that tears are building up in his eyes as he jogs towards the end of the block.

He kind of wishes Stiles would come after him, but he knows that’s not going to happen. There’s three voicemail in the few minutes it takes to get back home.

**Author's Note:**

> eeesh. sorry for my Stiles. I swear to God, I write him better in my other fics. but I rarely see Scott pining all over Stiles, and I thought I should write it??? um, sorry for run-on sentences. it was kind of a mess.  
> here is the poem I wrote (when I first found sciles) that this is based off:


End file.
